The Sun. — London, England, 1864-11-08 00:00:00

FUN ALMANAC FOR 1865. Will be Published on Thursday. Price Twopence. THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY- LANE._ Managers, Messrs. E. Falconer and F. B. Chatterton. THIS EVENING, TOO MUCH FOR GOOD NATURE. essrs. G. Eelmore, Fitzjames, Misses Helen He ward and R. Leclercq, Mrs. 1 , andenhoff, C. Melville, After which, Shaksoere's Tragedy of M kCBETIT. Mr. ?helps ; Messrs. Creswick, R. ltoxby, G. Belmore, A Rayner, F. Dieville, Edmund Phelps, J. Neville, Bartleman, Sze ; Misses Rebecca Isaacs, Emma ileywood, and Miss , elen Doors open at ha f-past Six—Commence at Seven. T HEATRE ROYAL, HAYMARKET.— Lessee. Mr. Buckstone. THIS EVENING, THE SUN AND THE WIND. After v hich, THE STRANGER. Messrs. Howe, Chip vndale, learren, Compton, STRAN GE R. M Brad, &c. ; U..sdarces Beatrice, Keeley, Fitzssilliam, Moore, &c. p °Bowed ty ON THE SLY. Messrs. Buckstone, Rogers, Gordon, &c.; Mesdames Snowdon, Fitzw.lliam, &c. And OUR MARY ANNE. 3liss 11. Lindley, Mr Clarke. To commence at 7. -ROYAL LYCEUM THEATRE. Under the sole management of Mr. Fechter. / HIS EVENING, THE KING'S BUTTERFLY. Fan tan, the King's Butterfly, Mr. Fechter. Messrs. Itycier,Wid dicOn. b, Ch rle 4, M'lntyre, Garden, Raymond, Moreland, U iffurul. Collett; Misses Carlot a Lezlercq, 31. Henrade, E. T.l.avenue, and B. Lavenue. PrecedeLl, at 7, by NURSEY CHICKWEED. Messrs. H. Widdicomb, Garden, Moreland, Collett ; Miss Lavenue,3lis. Leo. Doors open at half-past 6 ; commence at 7. The Box-office open daily from Eleven till Five. ING'S BUTTERFLY. - LYC EUM THEATRE.—Fanfan, the King's Butterflduy, for —The most successful Drama proced years. ROYAL PRINCESS'S THEATRE.- Sole Lessee and Manager, Mr. Geo. Vining. THIS EVENING, BORN TO GOOD LUCK. I addy O'Rafferty, Mr. Dominick Murray. miter which, THE ST Ray, D. Fi REETS OF LONDON. ay, J. Nelso Messrs. Vi n ing, J. W. her, D. Murrn, H. Forres ter. H. Mellon ; Mrs. Hen r y Marston, Miss Emma girnett, wirn ett, and Miss Finny Gwynne. THEATRE-ROYAL, Bole Proprietor and Manazer, Mr. B. Webster. THIS EVENING, A SHEEP IN WOLF'S CLOTHING. Mr. J. Clarke, Mr. Stuart, and Mrs. Stirling. After which, THE COLLEEN BAWN. Myles (with FA;ngs), Mr. John Collins. Messrs. Billingtoi, R. Phillips, stcphenscm, Eburne, C. J. Smith, R. Romer ; Miss Woolgar, Miss H. Simms, Mrs. Bi ling,ton, and Mrs. H. Lewis. To conclude with DOING BANTING. Messrs. J. Clarke Otephenson; Mrs. H Lewis and Miss A. Seaman. Commence at 7. R OYAL ST. JAMES'S THEATRE. Manager, Mr. Benjamin Webster. EMINENT TALENT AND COMEDY DRAMA. Those celebrated artistes, Mr. and Mrs. C. Mathews, are re engaged. THIS EVENING, and during the week, UNDER THE ROSE. After which, a new and original Comedy Drama, in three acts, entitled SY BILLA ; or, STEP BY STEP. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Mathews. To conclude with Mr. Maddison Morton's New Comedy Farce of WOODL OCK'S LITTLE GAME. Mr. Charles Mathews, Mrs. Frank Matthews. ROYAL STRAND THEATRE. Sole Lessee and Manageress. Mrs. Swanborough. HI-; EVENING, DELICATE GROUND. Messrs Par belle and Belford; Miss Palmer. Followed by, at Eight, MIL KY WHITE. Messrs. Craven. Stoyle, James; Mesdames Swanbor .ugh and Slanders. To conclude with MAZEPPA. Mesdames Raynham Simpson, &c. GRATIS AND POST FREE E. MOSES and SONS' New Pamphlet, THE PHILOSOPHY OF DRESS. 'V MOSES AND SON xj• respectfully call attention to their large and well assorted stock of JUVENILE CLOTHING. The newest ` fabrics are combined with the latest and most fashionable d k 'signs, and the best workmanship. E. MOSES and SON give particular attention to this important branch of their business, and they can with confidence affirm that the prices Are such as must satisfy the most economical. This depart ment is in a distinct part of the premises, which will be found a great convenience for ladies and children, - El MOSES AND SON • respectfully invite public attention to their large and well-assorted WINTEK STOCK. Vl 4 MOSES AND SON'S I_A • " SAN D R ING HA M" and "DANISH " WRAPPER (;atroduced by them) is the newest and most fashion tb:e style of Overcoats for the season. lug MOSES AND SON'S tu. BEADY-MADE and BESPOKE CLOTHING for all classes and all ages. xuMOSES AND SON'S • CELEBRATED "INDISPENSABLE" SUIT. from 303. V . MOSES AND SON'S • HOSIERY and DRAI'ERY, !or all classes and all ages. -Et MOSES AND SON'S • MATS AND CAPS, fvr all c asses and all ages. ip MOSES AND SON'S • BOOTS and SHOES, for all classes and all ages. E• MOSES AND SON'S OUTFI rs. for all classes, all age 2, and all climates. MOSES AND SON'S 5r.4 • LONDON HOUSES, 154, 155, 15P, 157, Minories ; 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, Aldgate ; 506, 507, 508, New Oxford--street; 1,2, 3, Hart-street; 137, 138, Tottenham-court-road ; 288, Euston-road Also, Bradford, Yorkshire. MOSES AND SON'S F• Estabiishments are closed eve-y Friday evening at sunset until Saturday evening at sunset, when business is re sumed until 1i o'clock. A 1 articles are marked the lowest prices in plain figures. Any article not appr,ved of will be exchanged, or the money returned. , „..„.. _,... List_ of Prices with Rules for Self-measurement, Fashion Card, and our new pamphlet, " The Philosophy of Dress," gratis and post tree. COALS.—rno LILL ES HAL L COMPANY'S COALS. Direct from their own Collieries. Marqui5'.......255. per ton. I Double ..21s. per ton. T o p 245. „ Det p ...225. „ fell screened and delivered within five miles of their De pots, Westbourne Park-road, W., and 17, South Wharf, Paddington, W., and Maiden-lane, N. Best Coke Terms cash. JOHN SCOTT, Sole t.gent. THE THIRD EDITION OF " THE SUN," AL Containing the Latest SPOUTING TELLIGE.N CE, Dan be had Every Evening of G. It. GLk.NIE, NEWS AGENT, No. 4, Connaught-terrace, Hyde-park. THE LATEST EDITION of "THE •SUN" supplied, as soon as published every - 14:veninc, , by HENRY BROOKS, Newspaper Agent, 24, Old Cavendish treet, W. HIGH WATER AT LONDON BRIDGE. ram DAY.—Morning, Bh. 15m.—Afternoon, 811. 58m. -Ca-ktoßnow.-Morning, 94. 36m.—Afternoon, 10h. 16m. -*- ,':', , a i I . i:,., .t I lit p 444 5... lil - it ..v _.."..... ...: ~._ • ISt. ON, LONDON, TUESDAY, NOV. 8, 1864. The last act in the tragedy is nearly played out, and Earl RUSSELL may enliven his autumnal re tirement by a careful study of the terms of peace which are the best that his mingled threats and blandishments can secure for his allies. The official text of the treaty of peace between the allied Ger man Powers and their victim, has just been pub lished, and it must be as consolatory to Denmark as it is gratifying to Englishmen. It consists of 24 articles, and the little kingdom ought perhaps to rejoice that it does not reach to 48, and that its terms are not if possible more stringent. Lord PALMERSTON, indeed, once went so far as to say that if Copenhagen were bombarded, and King CetatsTlAN taken prisoner, Queen VICTORIA'S ad visers would begin to think of action ; but judging from antecedents, the terrible invaders whom we poor -islanders hold in such wholesome awe, would not have been very foolhardy had they put this heroic declaration to a practical teat. If England did not wake until the victim were on the scaffold, there would be more than time for the executioner's coup cle grace while she was buckling on her armour and unsheathing her sword. But, all things con sidered, Austria and Prussia have thought it more prudent not to push matters to extremities, and the redoubtable Treaty of Peace now before us remains to record the achievements of diplomacy in the 19th cantury. It was no doubt liberal on the part of the monkey in the fable to be kind enough to surrender t hY shells to the disputants, sinc?, having the oyster in his possession, he might have appropriated them without hindrance as well as the bonnebouche. Acting on the same magnanimous principle,,the Allied Powers have positively agreed to leave the Island of Aroe, and some portions of the territory of Schleswig which serve as connecting links be tween Kiel and Jutland, in the possession of Dent. mark ; only, to facilitate the settlemeat of the fron tiers of the province, Denmark is required to cede all the Jutland dependencies south of the district of Ribe ; and it is also to be borne in mind that the cession of Schleswig is held to comprise all the islands belonging to the Duchy. Denmark re nounces all right to the Duchies in favour of Austria and Prussia, and recognises the right of those Powers to dispose of them further. This is a sin gular condition, when it has been so often loudly proclaimed that the sole otj ,ct of the war was to enfranchise the Duchies, and to connect "Schleswig Holstein, sea surrounded," into an independent State. "A compensation," conveniently vague de finition, will be paid to Danmark for those forced levies on the peaceful inhabitants of Jutland, which awoke the indignation of civilised Europe, while the Duchies are to reimburse the allies their war expenses. We apprehend that the one accoant will be much more quickly squared than the other. The vessels and cargoes " captured on either side" are to be restored or the owners indemnified. A most equitable arrangement seeing how the case actually stands. When Prussia comes to have a navy, and possesses the power to damage an enemy's shipping, she will not be quite so ready to make conditions concerning the surrender or indemnifi cation of prizes captured "on either siae." But it is useless to weigh too closely the terms of the final settlement. What . better could be hoped for when might was all on one side, and when it had been abundantly proved that neither the justice of the Me, the courage of the sufferer, the greed of the aggressor, nor the close alliance of the Danish royal family with our throne, could serve to call forth from the British Cabinet anything but an uncertain sound. Denmark, indeed, was at first misled. She relied too credulously upon those offers of help, those promises of support which were not alone whispered in the privacy of diplomatic confidence, but openly enunciated within the walls of the British Parliament. Perhaps, too, she reckoned a little too confidently on that near alliance so recently contracted with the English Sovereign, and on the interest which might naturally be supposed to be felt for the father of the young and popular Princess. She may have thought that as a kindred people, kindred in race, in character, in patriotism, English hearts would have been quickly stirred at the story of the gallant little kingdom struggling for its rights. In any case she has been painfully undeceived. The sympathy if felt has been profitless, the assis ance worse than useless. Had she not been misled by assurances of English aid, Denmark would scarcely have confronted the allied armies of Ausa tria and Prussia, wasting her blood and her treap. sure when the end was inevitable. LEONIDAS him- self, though a moral victor, was forced to succumb t 3 numbers, and though many a happier story from Marathon to Morgarten has proven that right is sometimes victorious against dedly odds, yet Den mark would never have been likely to have added to the list. Meanwhile the Danish Chambers are met in mournful conclave to discuss this humiliat ing treaty, and the best that can be said of it in the Royal speech is a hope that the ltigsraad will resign itself to the national misfortunes. What more can be said ? Any attempt to deny or to palliate the evil would be insulting the feeling of the country, and King CHRISTIAN knows better than needlessly to divert to himself any part of that just and natural indignation now so warmly felt by- the injured DAnes against their enemies—and their friends ! The assurance of some people is really amazing ; nothing seems to teach them moderation or to curb the vehemence of their opinions. Thus Mr. BRIGHT, nstead of hiding his diminished head, as well he might when the affairs of America are discussed puts himself forward in his usual arrogant style and proceeds to give advice to those who can do very well without it. At the same time he thinks he is striking with a two-edged sword, and while he gives one word to America he intends two for England. Doubtless he thinks that it is a very clever move, and that by these means he can give vent to his long pent•up wrath at the manner in which many among us have expressed ourselves daring this great struggle for supremacy in the United States. The remarks of the New York 7ribune are almost amusing in their intensity of excitement. Evidently the most must be made of such an important affair as Mr BRIGHT'S letter. It is styled, in the first place " timely and impressive, , It is very evident that the whole thing has been got up for party purposes, and that the most is sought to be made out of it ; but such an ingenious attempt will not go very far among those who are capable of understanding the tactics to their full extent, and of appreciating the manoeuvre. What reason can there be for Mr. BRIGHT coming forward at this especial juncture and laying down the law as to the advisability of LocoLN's re-election. Above all, it consorts ill with the precepts of one who is all for freedom of thought and action, that he should lay an interdict upon the expression of opinion upon the part of those who are in favour of M'CLELLAN. In this narrow-minded judgment we see fully displayed the arbitrary regulations and prejudiced views which distinguish the disciples of the Manchester School par excellence. What bitter scorn and withering sarcasm may we not suppose to be hidden under those significant words :—" All those of my countrymen who have wished well to the rekilion, who have hoped for the breakup of your Union, who have preferred to see a Southern slave empire rather than a restored free republic, so far as I on ob- serve, are now in favour of the election of Genera NUCLELLAN." In this sentence we may find many interpolations; first of all we are told that it is a "rebellion" with which the North have to cope, and such an assurance from one who should, above al, admire independence is very peculiar. Next, those who are so unhappy as to differ from Mr BRIGHT are told in very plain language of the want of common sense and good taste which they display in so doing, Also they are shown to what a fearful extent their wishes are carrying them, even E 0 far as to desire the establishment of a " Slave empire.' Of all the devices of cunning nothing surpasses this pretext of the object of the war being virtually the question of "slavery." It certainly goes far to show that the advocates of the Federal cause have not a very good case of their own that they in• variably resort to this dodge, and take refuge be hind this fair seeming show of strength and sub stance. But Mr. BRIGHT stands forward to teach the inhabitants of both hemispheres their duty. He emphatically declares what the good men and true of the Old World desire to see done in the New one. The chief object of their wishes and subject of their prayers it is incumbent upon us to know then is the reelection of Mr. LINCOLN. Ignorant must be those who look upon this event as a party struggle, and a political movement ; its issues are not confined to such trivial and transient ends ; the cause of humanity, the interests of civi • lization, the benefits of peace, and the bless ings of freedom are all bound tap in it. It is impossible to over estimate the importance rA E SUN,7l,Oix of seeking information at the fountain head, and who so fit to expound unto us the marvels and mys teries of American affairs as the man who speaks con amore of a republican constitution, and so fully appreciates its mighty workings in the cause of progress and freedom. Our surprise does not end with the grandilt quent assertion that so many await the approaching presidential struggle with impatience, but Mr BRIGHT further condescends to say why they do ? We hear accordingly that it is because they observe in Mr LINCOLN "a grand simplicity of purpose" and also "patriotism which knows no change." Can anything possibly be more ridiculous than this, and would any man believe that a man of experience would write such an ex travagant tissue of absurdities ? Where has been the "grand simplicity" of President LINCOLN'S conduct ? may well be asked by the astounded hearers of Mr BRIGHT'S phraselcgy. It is what the Manchester men call simple to proclaim such a course, and pursue such a game as have been the objects sought for with might and main by the man who for years has ruled the great Republic of the %Vest. Who can forget that during this struggle those on the Federal side have shown no respect for what should be held in reverence by barbarous nations, and restrain the passions of savage tribes! Not alone has their sword made women childless, but on no occasion whatever have their troops been withheld from acts of lawless violence, and all the arts and contrivances which can gain their imme diate ends have been eagerly resorted to, setting at nought the scruples of honour, the claims of justice, and the influence of mercy. It is to a man who has virtually encouraged, stimulated, and approved of these doings that Mr. BRIGHT offers the tribute of America's applause, and ins yokes the aid of America's support. If such are to be our heroes and demigods, the race has indeed deteriorated, :and our glory has departed, no more to rise. What is the use of Mr. BRIGHT'S coming forward, puffing up in such an extravagant fashion those of whom he makes idols, but whom we believe to be of a very indifferent quality. It will not Avail to convince any one, and it only shows into what mistakes clever men may fall when they get too much of an idea in their heads. Those who admire the abilities of the hon. member will really regret to see him throw away his energies in so mad an attempt as this t ffort to cry peace where there is no peace, and as it were to lay down the law as he wishes it to be, not such as others may wish it to be. It is to be lamented that an English citizen should identify himself with a set who are at variance with the fundamental principles of our Constitution, and whose lives are a contradiction in terms to the rule of doing unto others as you would that they should do unto you, Royal English Opera. The first original production of the Royal English Opera Company (Limited)—" Helvellyn"—has been received by the public with the greatest satisfaction ; and we record the fact with unmixed pleasure, because Mr G. A Macfarren is one of our greatest masters of operatic composition. We could however have wished that a more entertaining and dramatic story had been made the medium for such thorough English music, because through the opera a number of the most elegant and tasteful compositions are scattered, which certainly would have long lived in the memory had the words been worth the trouble of re membering. The plot of " Helvellyn" is almost in.. explicable, and without a book of the words or a brief acquaintance with the incident we fear many will make but little of the opera, dramatically speaking ; there fore, we give the following brief outline of " Helvellyn," that is as far as we were enabled to understand it :—The action takes place in a farm at the foot of llelvellyn, be longing to Mabel, a rich widow. The festivities of harvest home are interrupted by the entrance of Hannah, an orphan, who, seeking charity, is at once admitted into the service of Mabel. A second mendicant then arrrives in the person of Luke. the vagabond brother of the widow's late husband, who, on the score of his relationship, lays claim to halt her estate, Mabel admits him as a guest, but instantly starts for London to obtain the proofs of her sole rightsto the farm, leaving as herrepresentative Martin, a young steward, with whom she is secretely in love. Luke amuses himself in Mabel's absence by taking undue famili arities wi:h Hannah, but is repulsed by the girl, and re venges himself by instigating Steenie, an old servant, to denounce her as a thief. Martin, who has conceived a pas sion for Hannah, takes her part; but the consequent strife is suddenly quelled by the return of Mabel, who, now in possession of legal right to her estates, names the young stewart as her future husband, and thus gives him authority to eject her vagrant brother. But Martin is still enamoured of Hannah, who, however, forbears to lis en to his protestations, assigning as a reason that iier father set fire to a foundry many years before, and that the curses of the thousands who were thus made desti. tute still rest upon her head. The denouncement may be easily guessed. The real incendiary is of course no other than Luke, who, on being recognised by Hannah, endeavours to escape, and, clinging to a tree which is suddenly struck by a convenient thunderbolt, is precipi tated into the abyss ever which it hangs. Thus the curse falls upon the guilty head, and nothing remains but for the good-hearted Mable to bless the union of the lovers. The part of Mabel is confided to Madame Perepa, Hannah to Madame Sherrington, Martin to Mr Henry Haigh, Luke to Mr Alberto Lawrence, and Steenie to Mr H. Corrie ; and without entering into detail, we shall content ourselves with noting down those portions of the opera which seemed to tell most with the audience. In the first act, after a very good descriptive song, " The sky with crimson is o'er spread," by Mr 11. Carrie, Mr Haigh sang " A blessing on the harvest falls," which undoubtedly is one of the finest harvest songs ever composed. It just suited the compass of his voice, and called Torth an immense encore. The harvest song is followed by a fine quartet for Mabel, Martin, Hannah, and Steenie—" What spell, what magio holds me fast." In the second act Mr Alberto Lawrence has a very fine, rollicking, reckless sort of song, "Here's a fig for troubles past," which he sung with great effect, but the song of the tenor, "Take this flower," was unfortunately very much marred, in the second verse, by the attempt of Mr. Haigh to introduce a cadenza, the highest note being much beyond the natural compass of his voice. It is the besetting sin with most tenors that they will insist in attempting things far beyond their range ; in but very rare cases the attempt invariably results in a noise which certainly cannot be called music. There is a pretty kind of ballad for Mr. Haigh, " Oh, Hannah, Hannah," but the composer seems to have been thinking of Hatton's " Good bye Sweetheart," when he composed this particular song. The gem of the opera is a ballad by Madame Sherrington, " I've noted how he oft would try," and she sang it with the utmost taste, expression, and effect. The scenery, dresses, and decorations are beautiful, and the " company" deserve the highest praise for the manner in whioh the opera has been put upon the stage. Adelphi Theatre. The " Colleen Bawn,' which so long filled the hills and the house at this theatre, has been resuscitated to afford Mr John Collins the opportunity of showing to an English audience his version of the hero, Myles-na-Coppaleen. He has an advantage over all his predecessors in his fine voice, and his capital modo of singing several pure Irish airs greatly adds to the Effect of the character. In other re spects the characters remain mostly in the original hands. Miss Henrietta Sims, however, played Eily O'Connor, and in a very charming manner; and Mr It. Phillips Danny Mann, to which he gave all the requisite character. On Monday next Mr. Webster re appears, and striking novel ties are announc.d. Strand Theatre. LATEST INTELLIGENCE. (REUTER'S TELEGRAMS.) FRANCE. PARIS, Nov. 8. M. Bondet, Minister of the Interior, has been nominated Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour. The Constitutiorinel of this morning publishes an article, signed by M, Limayrac, comparing the daspatches of M. Drouyn de Lhuys and Cavalier di Nigra. The writer shews that a complete under standing has been established between the French and Italian Government relative to the sense and bearing of the Convention. CANADA. QUEBEC, OCT. 24. On Saturday the knotty question of finance occupied the attention of the Conference. The subject is a very difficult one, as the apportion ment of debt and revenue, and the adjustment of taxation for all the provinces, form its leading features. The Conference is expected to terminate its sittings during the week. Thirteen of the St Albania raiders have been lodged in the gaol at St John's. They are under the care of the sheriff. To-day the investigation takes place. Leading counsel have been retained for the prosecution by the Federal authorities, and the Hon. J. J. Abbott and J. Hyllard Came. ron, by the Confederate agents in Canada, for the defence. Mr Johnson, Q.C., has received instructions from the Attorney-General to watch the proceedings on behalf of the Crown. A troop of Volunteer cavalry has boen placed in charge of the gaol, an, owing to the sympathy manifested for the prisoners, an attempt at a rescue was deemed probable. — Captain Young, of the Confederate States army, the ringleadEr of the raid, has just published a letter in the Montreal newspapers. He confesses that he proposed to burn the town of St. Albans, together with the adjoining villages, in retaliation for the outrages perpetrated by the Federals in the Shenandoah Valley. He likewise complains that bands of American citizens came beyond the lines and attempted to kill himself and his party, after they were in the hands of the Canadian authorities. He winds up by remarking that the Americans and not his party are the violators of neutrality and of international law. This event has caused considerable excitement throughout the province. SOUTHAMPTON, Nov. 8. The Hamburg and American Company's steam ship Borussia, having been refitted with a new fan, resumed her voyege for New York this morning, The Bavaria, having finished repairs, sails for Hamburg to-morrow. No news has been received yet of the overdue steamer Sasonia from New York on the 15th ult. The North German Lloyd's steamer Bremen sails to-morrow for New York direct, with up wards of 490 passengers. A new and very promising candidate for the honours of the London stage appeared last evening at this theatre in the exceedingly attractive person of Miss Milly Palmer, of the Theatre Royal. Liverpool, who made a brilliant debut as Pauline, in Mr. Planche's pleasant comedietta of "Delicate Ground." She acts not only with spirit and intelligence, but with grace and sensibility, and she is perfectly familiar with stage business. It is scarcely necessary to add that she well deserved the applause with which she was abun dantly greeted, and that she cannot fail to become a very valuable acquisition to the popular company of comedians at the Strand Theatre. TUE EXTENSIVE FRAUDS UPON WINE MER CRANTS.—CharIes Eton De Witt and DU/3.OaD M‘Lean Wright, who were under remand at the ➢lansion House, charged with conspiring together in attempting to obtain, and iu obtaining, a quantity of wine, to the value of about £:i,000, from Messrs. Garcia and Itubot Brothers, by means of Woo pretences, and also with uttering several forged bills of exchange to the same amount, knowing them to be forged were fully committed for trial, 130141, 'TUESDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 8, 1864. THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW, The following official programme of the order of proces sion of the civic authorities from Guildhall to Westmin ster, to present the new Lord Mayor (Alderman Hale) to the Barons of the Court of Exchequer to-morrow (being Lord Mayor's-day), was issued yesterday by the City Itemembrancer Drums and Fifes of the Royal London Militia Boys of the Marine Society, with Banners Three Trumpeters Band of tho Royal Society for the Protection of Life from Fire Watermen, bearing the Banners of the following Livery Companies of the City of London : Spectacle-makers Loriners Plasterers Coor ors Innholders Painter Stainers Carpenters Saddlers Girdlers Wax Chandlers Salters Goldsmiths Fishmongers Grocers Band of the 2d London Mile Volunteer Brigade Banner of the Arms of the Company of Tallow Chandlers • Banner of the Arms of the late Mr Alderman Rurnphery g's Banner of the Arms of the late Mr Alderman Farncomb c. ) Banner of the Arms of the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor t Banner of the Arms of the City of London ;7 -I The Beadle of the Co m p an y , bearing his Staff P, • The Clerk of the Company, in his Chariot 22 The Members of the Court of Assistants, in their n Carriages • The Wardens of the Company, in their Carriages . The Master of the Company, in his Chariot, attended g Ei by his Chaplain Watermen bearing the following banners : The Royal Standard The Union Jack. The Banner of Scotland. Six Streamers of the City A rum The Banner of England. The Banner of Ireland Banner of the City of London Band of the Grenadier Guards Description of the Armour worn by the Knights and Esquires in the Procession :• FIRST KNIGHT, :n a plain cap• a-pie suit of armour of the early part of the 17th century, attended by Two Esquires, ona a swordsman in a suit of black and white armour, the other in a demi lance suit SECOND KNIGILT, In tilting armour, early part of the 16th cenfury, attended by Two E,quires, one in cavalier suit of Langruned armour, the other in cavilier suit of bright armour THIRD KNIUILT, In tilting suit of the second half of the 16th century, attended by Two Esquires, one in half suit of bright armour, the other representing a demi-lance FOUR= KNIGHT, In a cap-a-pie suit of engraved armour of the first half of the 16th century, attended by Two Men-at-Arms in foot armour FIFTH KNIGHT, In a cap-a-pie suit of bright armour of the first half of the 16th century, attended by Two Esquires, one in a suit of splints with engraved Motion, the other in a back plate of steel. SIXTH R.NialtT, In a cap-a•pie suit of black and white armour of tho first half of tho 16th century, attended by Two Esquiree. one in Maltese armour, the other in Italian armour. The Band of the London Rifle Volunteer Brigade The Two Under-Sheriffs ' The Officers of the Corporation of London Three Trumpeters Mr Sheriff Besley in hi e State Ch ar iot, drawn by four horses, a ttended by his Chaplain Three Tru m p e ters Mr Sheriff Dakin in hi s S tate Char i o t, drawn by four horses, attended b y hi s Chaplain The Band of the H onourable Art ill er y Company The Aldermen who have not passed the Chair The Recorder The Aldermen who have passed the Chair THE LATE LORD MAYOR The Lady Mayoress in ber State Carriage will join the procession on its return from Westminster The Lord Mayor's Servants, in State Liveries The Band of the Ist Life Guards, mounted The City Marshal on horseback Gentlemen of the Lord Mayor's Hou9ehold The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR, In his State Carriage, drawn by six horses, Attended by his Chaplain, Swordbearer, and Common Crier Guard of Honour on horseback The Military Escourt will be a Detachment of the 13th Hussars. The procession will move from Guildhall at 11 o'clock precisely, and pass though King-street, Cheapside, St. Martin's-ls-Grand, Alderegate-street, Jewin-street, Red Cross-street, Finsbury -pavement, Fore-street, Finsbury.- circus, London- wall, Moorgate- street, Princes-street, King William-street, Cannon• street, St. Paul's Churchyard, Fleet-street, Strand, to Westminster, returning from Westminster by way of the Strand, Fleet. street, Ludgate hill, St. Paul's Churchyard, Cheapside, King-street, to The procession on its return will be joined by the ambas sadors, her Majesty's ministers of state, the nobility, judges, members of parliament, and other persona c 4 distinction invited to the bouquet at Guildhall. LITERATURE. The Future Earl of Berkeley. My Life and _Recollections. By the Hon. Grantley Fizhardinge Berkeley. Two Vols. Hurst and Blackett. Adopting the expression applied to Mr. Leigh Hunt by Lord Macaulay, we would say at once in regard to the author of these delightful 1t,:c.)1- lections—We have a kindness for the Hon. Grant- Ley Berkeley. Pitiless, nay, let us frankly confess it, eally lamentable sometimes, though the audacity of the personalities squandered by him through these two large volumes, we have a kindness for the writer of them nevt rtheLes. They are what old Lady Kew might have agreed with Mrs. Skewton in - Jailing naughty—but, for all that, they are also, as we have said, delightful. Mr Berkeley, it may be as well to mention, sets oat I , ere in this retrospective survey of his career as his own remembrancer, with the reminder to Li 3 reader that he, the Author of the Book, is, in years, just exactly as o:d as the century. His Recollections extend, therefore, over an interval of from fifty to sixty years in its dura'. tion. During which very momentous span of time the world has passed through more astounding changes and even it might be said complete transformations no less socially and in some sense morally also, than politically and scientifically, than can be found to have been anywhere else recorded within the like compass of a half century in the whole wide range of the annals of modern civilisation. In asserting which, we are indulging in no exaggeration of phrase whatever. Between the world as it was, when our author first recalls it to his remembrance —just a little more than one ha;f century ago—and the world as it is now, under his more than ever keen and animated observation, the difference dis cernible even at ti superficial glance, is nothing less than one absolutely astounding of its kind. And, in testimony of its being so, it is only necessary to re gard the contrast between the Now and the Then from two points of view—one point of view bringing that truly astonishing contrast socially, the other scientifically, under the merest momentary conside ration. For example—it is within this first half of the nineteenth century (the identical epoch of which Mr. Berkeley's book treats auto• biographically) it is within these fifty or sixty years last past that we have learnt (as matters of mere everyday occurrence) to accustom ourselves to the marvels—of traversing the ocean in defiance of wind and tide—of whirling from city to city, all over Europe, at the rate of nearly a mile a minute, at the tail of a fiery dragon, quite as wonderful in its way as those about which our grandfathers, when they were little boys, used to read in the dear old Fairy Tales still happily familiar to the nursery— of flashing our messages, to and fro, with inconceivable rapidity, under the sea, over the lend, at the thrill of an acid, on the wings of the lightning—of having our portraits taken (true to a hair) within the space of a few seconds, by the pencil of a sunbeam—nay, even fur that matter, of subjecting the very atmo sphere of the fixed stars, and of those remoter regions in space marked by the dim nebu:se, to the wonder-working test of spectrum analysis under the lens of the microscope I SJcially, hardly less than scientifically, moreover, the change that has here taken place within the personal recollection of our author is, in very deed and truth, something quite marvellous. Insomuch, that it would hardly be any extravagance whatever to assert that many a man who passed muster as a Gentleman when the Hon. Grantley Berkeley was a little child, would, if he could, to-day but be recalled to life, just precisely as he was Then, assume his right place Now in the social system as a most unquestionable Blackguard. A Prince of the Blood, it need only here be said, by way of illustration, could actually in those far looser, coarser, more degenerate times, attain the reputation, could even, as the world remembers now with semi], secure to himself the distinctive designation of the First Gentleman in Europe— although drinking like a tapster, boxing like a rough, and swearing like a costermonger. It is something surely worthy of note, in regard to the Hon. Grantley Berkeley, that passing, as he did, as a boy, as an observant and adventurous stripling —through the very thick and tumult of that swill ing, gambling, bruising, blaspheming raff of Corinthians, his nature remained untainted. That it, has done so, this only too outspoken and ingenuous work of his, affords signal and to our mind conclusive attestation. It is impossible to glance through its revelations, no matter whether cursorily or scrutinisingly, without recognising, in the man who penned it, one whose temperament has many large and instantly appreciable claims upon our sympathy. Granted that he shows him self to us here as, in his idocyncrasy, a mass of contradictions. Yat, throughout them all, he wins our sympathy, not partially but cordially and almost unreservedly. lie writes, as perhaps no man before him ever did write—about his mother. He discourses about his brothers us unhesitatingly as though he were holding a brief against them in a criminal prosecution. He relates to us most amusingly old Lady Cler mont's peccadilloes in the " lacing" (pretty stiffly too) of her tea with brandy—and does this with all the gusto and a great deal more than the ave rage vivacity of a genuine tea-table scandal-monger. He puts an end at last for once and for all to every one of our long cherished hopes as to L. E. L. not having fallen—and he does this by blurting out with frightful distinctness her own acknowledgment to him of her having been seduced, while she was yet a mere slip of a echool girl, and seduced, too, by no other than Dr. Maginn. Of that same learned, dirty, gifted creature, our author talks elsewhere most unhesitatingly—revealing the redoubtable Doctor in a light as odious as perhaps any man of-letters was ever revealed in, namely, as offering to huckster his praise as a critic for so much money told out to him in cur rent coin of the realm—money ,that Dr. Maginn is here related as having asked for at the hands of the Author of "Berkeley Castle"—an Author whose hand he had already learnt full well could wield not only a gray goosequill, but, still more effectively upon occasion, a tolerably sinewy and elastic horsewhip. Yet—it is the writer of these astoundingly candid recollections, it is the relater of all these chequered incidents in a life the trail of which he has himself pretty plainly traced back through scenes as varied as the coulisses and the hunting-field, the haunts of the demimonde and the regions peopled by the creme de la creme, the Ring and the Drawing-room, the margin of the trout-stream and the sofas of the boudoir, the Barrack and the House of Com mons, the Palace and the Shanty, the soli, tudes of the Prairie and the crush at Almacks —it is the author of these most interesting Recollections, of all these most startling Revela tions about people dead and gone, and about others even who are still living—it is of him that we would here speak as of one with wham, in many respects, we do most heartily sympathise, as one whom it is impossible to help admiring, in defiance of all his foibles and inconsistencies. Naturally, he is a man endowed with a most tenderly affec tionate disposition. His devotion to his House and Home—to the ancient race of the Berke• lays—to the yet vivid souvenirs of his childhood, to his mother (in spite of all he writes about her), to his brothers (one and all of them at first), to his brother Moreton.especially—is a devotion, of its kind, in its way, eminently beautiful. His very fopperies one recognises as merely superficial. Un derlying them all there is at the very core and heart of his nature an inerradicable manliness. A dandy in appearance. he is not the least atom a dandy in reality—that is, in t is personal bearing and deport ment, in his conversation, in his habits and prefer ences. He is so far from being effeminate in his likings and in bis surroundings, that with all his air of fribble and jlaneur daring the height of the season, he is, in season and out of season, a Mighty Hunter in his varied way—at home alike in the stubble afoot or in the saddle, casting a fly over the rimpled surface of the trout-stream, stalking the deer on the heathered hill-side, flying a rasper in the track of the fox-hounds, or bringing down with his steady hand, his keen eye, and hi s unerrin,o; aim, the wild buffalo of the Far West. As a Sportsman he can hold his sown to this day as among the first and foremost. As a fa eh icreblc man of letters he Las in his time enjoyed and still in one department of literature continues to enjoy, a recognisable—not the highest, but still a distinct and recognisable—reputation. And jostled as he was, particularly in his younger days, among a bewildering concourse of high-born and low.bJrn men of the world, patricians and par venus, peers and prize-fighters, he has passed (as in truth this very Book of his, containing within it his autobiographic recollections, serves to de monstrate) he has passed through it all, so far scath. less, so far untainted by the influence of many evil surroundings, that his nature Is still, to this hour, marked signally, pre-eminently among all his characteristics by its ingenuous■ ness. As a Book of Fashionable, Sporting, Lite. rary, and Political, Recollections, the work is sin gularly delightful and entertaining . It is as full as anecdote as a plum pudding is full of all sorts of good things in the way of fruit and spice and appea tizing condiments. There is hardly a single dull page in the whole of those two big volumes. The Hon. Grantley and his contemporaries pass before us, in one pleasant chapter after another, as in a moving panorama, their manners, and customs, and costumes, for that matter, changing marvellously, as the time here described is brought down in the flow of the narrative, nearer and nearer to our own epoch. We set out:with our autobiographer from that stand-point of his recollections, from which he first of all gazes " up" the vista of his career from a certain day in 1806, where:he remembers to have:stood, when a little boy of six, by the side of his old nurse, by a meadow gate down in Gloucestershire. From that first stand-point he starts upon the record of his social pilgrimage—introducing us, by the way, as he advances from 1806 to this present year of grace, 1864, to all sorts and conditions of men and women with whom he has been brought, during his Life's Pilgrimage, more or less intimately into communication. These Berkeley's, we never know so much about—(though, for that matter, we did happen to know a good deal about them previously)—until now—and this, thanks to these vivid recollections of them, to these nothing less than audacious revelations. And—thanks also to the very Book under notice—one of those Berkeleys we have thereby come to like better than ever in spite of all his faults and foibles—meaning no other than Grantley Berkeley himself, the candid Ego of this Retrospect. We know now more than ever about him—by reason of this Book—it has told us nearly all his antecedents so far as they yet survive in:his own remembrance. And hence he has enabled as to appreciate him, as we never by possibility could have appreciated him previously, without some such frank and unhesitating self-revelation. As an autobiographer, he has a rare gilt in telling a good anecdote trippingly off the tongue, without any of the tediousness of circumlocution. Ex gr. this whimsical commemoration by him of a maiden speech :—" The late Mr L. Charlton," he says, " tried to make a maiden speech, and rising in his place with a very bald head, known too as he was to everybody as one of the oldest stagers in all the ways of the world, he began with great affectation of inexperience, and with an exceedingly mild voice—' Mr Speaker, I am but a young member.' On hearing this assertion from so wall known and crafty man, possessing so vener able a pate, the entire House roared with laughter. Twice he stopped, and three times he commenced with these words; but it was useless; the House would not listen, and he never to ay know ledge essayed to speak again, or if he did, the sight of his bald head set the:audience in a roar." Sometimes he indulges as with an old familiar comicality —as, for example, when he says—" The next amusing thing I remember was at a dinner at the Thatched House in St. James's-street, given to his Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester, I think; but it was certainly to the Royal Dake who had one of the regiments of the Guards. At the banquet, among the young officers who had lately joined, was Dick Armit ; when, on his being presented to his Royal Highness, the Duke re. marked, when he heard his name, Oh, I know— son of Armit and Co. ;' alluding to the well-known firm. 'No, sir,' replied Dick ; of Armit only; As a more highly elaborated illustration of our author's skill as a narrator, we are tempted to give, in spite of its length, the subjoined very charming sketch of— A SYLVAN INCIDENT. It was, then, on a most lovely afternoon, towards the end of July, when the bucks were getting into very good condition, that, with the John Manton rifle in hand, I sauntered slowly from the woodman's cottage in Ilobisly enclosure, in a direction leading down to the brook at Osman's Ford, or Oarnanly Ford, as it is Sometimes called, near which now stands the Holmsly station on the South ampton and Ringwood line of railway, I had taken time by the forelock, in order that I might watch any veerings in the summer air, and change my place to some other likely spot for a buck if the wind suited not my first selected position ; but I gave the preference to the alder swamp on the brook that limited a little open lawn lying between it and the adjoining enclosure, because I had been long aware that there occasionally fed a very good deer, That he, with the usual instinctive caution of a fat buck, would not show himself till it was nearly dark, I very well knew; so I sauntered along down the swamp and the little murmuring brook, whose very small trout were rising and the minnowbood frisking about at play, to select some good ambush whence I could watch the lawn without being my. self observed. Before the mania for draining had affected the wits of people in charge of the Crown lands the little brook was essentially a forest-brook, meandering now here, now there, breaking into little rippling shallows over pebbly beds, or sleeping in deeper holes where grew the water-lily. Through beds of golden bog-myrtle it sometimes glided noiselessly along, and at others smoothly flowed by willows and alder trees. By the brink of a shallow, then, at last, I halted; for on the other side of the stream there was a fine old alder stump, of very good breadth, high up from the marshy land on which it stood, from whose pollard top yet branched strong arms of luxurious vegetation. This alder stood the king of a host of others that, broke and bent, grew around it, their boughs entwined with the wild honeysuckle and rose, making in all a most sweet cover, over which the height of the larger tree gave me just room and space enough to command the length and breadth of the lawn s Provi)us to climbing to this most eligible position, I drew from a lit:le pocket a few light downy feathers from the breast of a duck I had wrapped in paper, and cast one of them into the hot, stagnant air, in order to ascertain the quarter of the wind. There was se tree enough to indicate the direction, but what little there was showed that it came from a south-westerly direction—the very quarter I desired, This grand point ascertained, I climbed up early to my syl van throne, in order that the scent of my steps might not affect the wary herd, and the rising dew assist to drown the dreaded prognostication of danger. Talk of the' happiness of a king . '—figurative method of speech as that is—no happiness on earth could surpass mine, and none that was shared in by more than two in the palaces, castles, and mansions of the world could come near it. I was the monarch of all I surveyed, from the straight hunting-h3rn stuck in my bolt to call my man and the woodmen from the cottage if I killed a deer, to the rifle and the wild surrounding forest. The music in the air appeared to have been made expressly for my enjoyment. The goat-sucker purred his adulations,the yellow-hammer sounded his long, low, sweet evening song from a gorse bush, and the white-throat chided and warbled from the tall, high reeds. It was too early yet for the expected bunk to make his appearance,so I occasionally directed my eyes to the rising trout in the stream below me, or to the chubby head of a water rat which, beaver fashion, cut down green flags, and fed on the juicy end of them. It was getting late, the sun was below the westward trees, and the sky above showing the crimson blush of the descending planet, when, at some distance above me on the stream, my ear caught the cry of a startled blackbird. It was followed by no " twit—twit," denouncing the presence of some predatory animal, but was simply the cry of the bird when either a man or some large animal comes sud denly upon it, and makes it start from the ground to wing. It was quite enough to invite further attention, for either there was a human being there or thereabouts, to render my further vigil for a deer abortive—or there was some large animal other than a fox, otter, stoat, weasel, or cat, th.tt had scared the blackbird; and it might be the very deer I was in quest of. For a time all remained still, when suddenly I thought my ear detected the slightest occasional splash of water. It certainly was not that of the graceful little goldfinch which I had previously seen makiLg his evening ablution on the margin of a shallow close to me, and peering from side to side in his crimson cap, as if self-satiefied with his appear ance in the watery mirror. The goldfinch and all little birds were gone to bed, the earliest bat was flitting about, and the splash of the water was not like that of a wild duck, which perhaps it might be. No—it was not a wild duck, for, glancing my eye to the surface ot the quick stream, I saw borne towards me on its bosom the blossoms of the wild rose, so there was something in the brook taller than a duck, probably the velveted antlers ot the deer, which, shaken at the annoying flies , had brushed away the bloom that now passed beneath the tree whereon I was. In another moment there were steps in the water : that was quite evident. ',l:llat it was a deer of mu° sort 'telt 41/ perfectly certain; and the next turn in the brook, beoi fl the higher alders, must place the buck or doe, Whioo it was, within 30 yards of my rifle, now cocked, 13 3 9 on its light trigger, and the sight directed on the , 11 where perhaps the goodly buck in one moment more 0' stand confessed. 10 None but those as much attached to woodcra ft as • I will understand the thrill at my heart which came 14 : 0 1 ti s heard the close approaching steps in the water, 00 86i° . stopping and again coming on, and then behel d the r1:0 ing wave on the surface of the brook come circling 0 .„1 the corner, wide of the moving thing that caused it tom and then die away. It is in sight I—a white and beautiful hand end 6r:h picking water-weeds or flowers, and then a lov ely with fair, luxuriant hair ; and then, there, on t he Peb, ;; shallow stream, the water reaching not 0 h er knees, s " a chasing girl, of abou, or rather under sixteen 5 15/1 age. above, le s I feared to stir in my umbrageous screen 1 0 / should alarm her, or so force myself on her notice • she did not desire to be seen; so, at the moment, I 01°1 1 0 it better to let her p ins by me, intent as she was uP° l3 It water, well knowing that but a very little lower devil' stream the shallows would cease, and she must cotae4) dry land and end her botanical occupation, for she betidi her hand a book, between the rough leaves of which her put several specimens of aqueous plants, as We li Ll occasional bit of fern. Therefore without inter ru P tw" let her proceed in her occupation. P An accident, however, soon brought me to her suli when she was within ten yards of the old tree in wh was hidden, she uttered a sudden shriek of pain, an d - her white feet seemed to be held by what I at first de 1 , to be the thorn of a bramble. She slightly pulled at /1 0 # ever it was that held her, but the obstacle to her 10 5 ,0 held fast, and in another instant I could see what loon be a string or piece of line extending from the ban the water and to her foot, and then again to the , bank, so that mid-stream she was detained. Gto sl3iOrl lo what had happened, and not to startle her too much " 0 ablupt descent, I exclaimed from amidst WY l ic t g el " Please do not attempt to move, and do not be frig hte " I will come and assist you." #4 0 1 Down to the water dropped the delicate garnaell— y the more delicate limbs at the sound of my voice; butol, fore she could reply, my riflo rested on the branch d was in the water with her. Finding that she bad o t y the sole of one of her pretty feet on a small hook ea s tiji set across the brook for the little trout, with the 1 : 111 1,, knife at my waist I cut the string, and taking her uP arms, while she steadied herself with one hand uPOO 1 neck, I bore her to the shore and up to the drier 18 where I seated her on the grass. She looked truly beautiful! Kneeling down " 0 1 wounded foot in the gentlest way, I begged hex not afraid, but to lot me look at it. She leant on her elb e t I said this, knowing that she was unable to walk ; htt) tisfied that I was a gentleman, she permitted me to ta!; 11 graceful instep in my hand, and, with the sharp 13°1.0 ray penknife, with scarcely any pain to her, I co ntr n , extract the hook, which was fixed firmly in the 51 6111 set her once more free. ; ea " She then undid a little bundle she had conir-Ims+ attach to her waist, that held her shoes and stock') and while she put them on, I went back to the brooXfoy found the book she had in her hand, and which had 04 on the bank as I carried her from the water. On la she had adjusted her dress, which, however, about het was very wet, and she was standing up and blushial parently about to ask a favour. Ol d Addressing me, then, by name, for it seemed eb ° me by sight, she told me that she had some cotaP ° and a carriage not far off, and that she was porfeetlY and could find them very soon. The one request elle to make was, that I would not accompany her b acl to friends, nor tell anybody what had happened. j s I promised this, and faithfully kept my word for succeeding years, till she had become the mistr ess °f actions, and had been placed far from me. Giving Pleto hand, as might have been expected, I saluted it ; 011 , e 40 walked away, as she alone could walk, and the 1 1, ( 0 cover soon shut her out from further observation. 'OOl the first hour of my acquaintance with her, and fr °lll ,o ll time to this we have m a i n t a i ne d a f r iendship tha t 11- 1$ time, distance, nor human ingenuity, has had the I ) " to destroy. When shG went away, daylight seemed to ba nev e Td with her, for then the sky lost all its roseate coleti t ' a i moon and stars came out, and a most lovely nigh t °- 131 0 It was too late for me to seek another deer, and no t to infringe any injunction the young lady had g i / 0 11 0 11 I took a circuitous way by which to reach the vi° ° ",; l 4 cottage, where I had left my pony and her littl e o°l'lol' when, as I proceeded down the woodland ride, hi:red.?, places on the sward or on the grassy bank, htluw glow-worms showed their tiny lamps. fi VC ° , Altogether the work, as a whole—in ue -ti to bl°; its loose and scrambling character as an 6 1 ;0 0 ' graphy—is something unquestionably of 1111 0 0°, achievement. And it is so, if for no ottl ef og e than this, that, while dealing with S t" - tl t thorough woridlings, it is, in the general 1, 0 so singularly refreshing and exhilirating. Proclamation of a Federal Fast. It has pleased Almighty God to prolong our natioos another year, defending us with His guardian eare,s,lo undtriendly designs from abroad, and vouchsafing °1 His mercy many and signal victories over the ena,,, l3l „ i ceo ll f is of our own household. It has also pleased our P'frojej Father to favour as well our. citizens in their hora es j soldiers in their camps and our sailors on the ri le t t e de r seas with unusual health. Ile has largely angra e f o ti l free population by emancipation and by j01:13'.°,,r611 „j while He has opened to us new sources of we alth, crowned the labour of our working men in ever , ' ment of industry with abundant reward. 31°reele ,5 1d has been pleased to animate and inspire ou r wi pe" hearts wilh fortitude, courage, and resolution 81° btO the great trial of civil war into which we ba le /0 1 j brought by our adherence, as a nation, to the catla e , e dom and humanity, and to afford to us reasonabljr, of an ultimate and happy deliverance from all oar u — rtr A and afil.ctions. Now, therefore, I, Abraham Libc °ll3 ;f4 sident of the United States, do hereby appoint and Be . i the last Thursday in November next as a day whieb . 4 , to be observed by all my fellow-citizens, wherever tbe'.olll then be, as a day of thanksgiving and prayer to e, God, of, God, the beneficent Creator and Ruler of the unive r , e ,i't , „; Ido further recommend to my fellow-citizens aforesslor, C on that occasion they do reverently humble thetns a j l'i r d: C the dug, and from thence offer up penitent aba,'„ e feri pra) era and supplications to the Great Disposer of " o f t for a return of the inestimabte blessings of peace, lzi li tt eli ;l! harmony throughout the land which it has pleased ),orw goo' At assign as a dwelling-place for ourselves and our li"; throughout all generations, In testimony whereof,jl hereunto set my hand and cause the seal of the fi t/ States to be affixed. Done at the city of Wash/130:d 20th day of October, in the year of our Lord, 186190) the independence of the United States the 89th.--Al3lOOl LiNcoLN. By the President, William H. Seward , tary of State. t " THE PROFITS OF CORPULENCE—in other W 0 114 Mr Banting's balance-sheet of sales and 1: ) A lc i e! This gentleman writes:—" In furtherance of WY P iv- lei r the public to devote any profit resulting from ti l° 6 :0, 9 j my pamphlet on this subject to benevolent institut'°-,, ✓m having sold above 50,000 copies, I think it desirsb' prudent now to publish the result, as the first ine tsi f n e o f such distribution, and shall be delighted to be 'Ol O a similar report hereafter : Received by the sale of 50,000 of the: third edi tion, as 46,154, or 3,816 dozen, and two copies, i 4 Pi according to the trade custom, at 4s per doz..£ 7 ' Paid for correcting, setting, casting, and printing 50,0 A copies bound in wrappers £503 13 0 Paid for advertising in the London and country papers, and expenses $ incident thereto 0 1° • Profit to the author l7l Distribution of profit as follows : To the Printers' Pension Society, at the anni h. - versary dinner in March last, by favour of ° -0 5 ° Mr Charles Dickens To the Royal Hospital for Incurables To the British Home for Incurables ° To the National Orthocaalic Hospital ..... .• -° (1 t ) I Leaving a balance in hand of £lO 13s 2d for fat The to bution with future profits on the further sale• epe and second editions, 2,500 copies, were given to tli tt of gratuitously, at my personal cost, and form 3 20 P a " 1 above statement," Ss ON B T O A A R R I O D . o — F T ThetA i D n E 4 u I r Q y U w I R a B Y r l e N s T a O na T e li d E y f t ;; (103 ,1 0 1'i most important evidence Ling that of Air Jordsof 0,0 and shipwright co the National Steam Navigatia; pany. He stated that though the intended oollgraer have been otherwise, the error in the cornpasseor t PI , - .coo t d ing for the set of the tide, would have brought th e 13 . 0 1 '0 Ilitsborough Sand. The witness described the :1 3 011,, the lifeboats, and stated that the Yarmouth 1)(3 ,1 % 1 01 charge of the National lifeboat, though apprie" 0 0 0 ' 0 0 services were required, failed to attend ille;noteri (though the danger was urgent), and thet ta i ThiP agreement for £3OO was made with two Pri Vi : t : o , l : l A A from Gorleston. They went once to the steeo l— 0 1 0 ' i t'l 3 back stating that they could not get near the I , ° : gte t 'leri count of the breakers, whereas at that time t' or e l 4l , l lifeboat was actually engaged in transferring th sc O re, Of the Ontario to the Pioneer steamtug, and theY i.ivadi shortly afterwards. The Gorleston men never 01:3-009- money, and were (witness said) thoroughly tit 4 themselves. The inquiry is still proceeding, 01 0,! P v ic C THE CASE OF MR HaMMOND.- - Y egter ,i - eete a dVA Surrey Sessions, a vast number of persona O ' l 7 Dir r o il; the court expecting to hear the charges ageilie,iagtl;sl mond and his two servants far unlawfully I °' ve Po" wife, and assaulting her, but the proceedings heal moved from these sessions to the Central CC